The car sped along the highway, the tension thick between Sarah and Oliver. The earlier exchange had left the atmosphere charged, Sarah's heart still racing with anger and disgust. Oliver, meanwhile, seemed to simmer in a cold silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as the lights of the city flashed by.
Sarah kept her gaze fixed out of the window, her mind reeling. Her skin still crawled from the feel of Oliver's hand on her leg, and the implications of his words echoed in her head. Love? That was never love. It was control, possession, obsession. She had never seen Oliver as anything more than a family friend, but now, with John out of town and Oliver's advances growing more predatory, she felt more trapped than ever.
But Sarah was far from weak. She had endured enough manipulations from her own family, enough cold stares and backhanded comments to understand what real strength meant. If Oliver thought she would break so easily, he had underestimated her.
Oliver finally broke the silence, his voice low but controlled. "Sarah," he began, his eyes still on the road. "I didn't mean to upset you. You must know that everything I've done has been for you. It's because I care about you… deeply."
Sarah remained silent, her stomach churning at his words. She didn't want to hear his twisted justifications, his attempts to manipulate the situation. He had shown his true colors back there, and no amount of smooth-talking could cover that up.
When she didn't respond, Oliver sighed, his voice shifting to something more direct. "You know, Sarah, you should think about what's best for you. John is… well, let's be honest, he's in over his head. He's weak. Dependent. I can give you so much more. You'd never have to struggle again."
Sarah turned her head, glaring at him, her voice hard and steady. "You think money is all that matters, don't you, Oliver? That's all you've ever had to offer. But it's not what I want. I love John. And no amount of your money, no job, no bills paid will change that."
Oliver's grip tightened on the wheel, and for a moment, a flicker of something darker flashed in his eyes. His jaw clenched, and his charming facade began to crack. "Love," he muttered under his breath, almost mocking the word. "You really think that'll be enough when he can't even protect you? Can't even provide for you? You're clinging to some fantasy, Sarah."
Sarah straightened, her anger flaring. "No, Oliver. The fantasy is you thinking you can buy me, like I'm some prize you can just win with money and power."
The silence that followed was thick and oppressive, each word cutting deeper into Oliver's ego. His jaw worked as he processed her defiance, but he said nothing, eyes fixed ahead as the car sped toward Sarah's home.
When they finally pulled up outside her house, Sarah was out of the car before it had fully stopped, eager to put distance between herself and Oliver. She slammed the car door behind her, not even waiting for him to say anything, and headed toward the front door.
But as her hand reached for the doorknob, she heard Oliver's voice behind her. "Sarah."
She paused, her back still to him. She didn't want to turn around, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a response. But something in his tone made her glance back over her shoulder.
Oliver had gotten out of the car and was standing a few steps away from her, his expression unreadable. "You should know," he said, his voice quiet but firm, "that John isn't the man you think he is. He's weak, Sarah. And eventually, you'll see that. When that happens… I'll be here."
Sarah's blood ran cold at the thinly veiled threat. "John is twice the man you'll ever be," she said firmly. "And I don't need you. I never will."
She turned back to the door and entered the house, slamming it shut behind her. Her hands trembled as she locked the door, trying to calm her racing heart. The conversation with Oliver had left her feeling exposed, vulnerable. His words still echoed in her mind, and for a brief moment, doubt crept in. But she pushed it away. John was a good man. He had been through so much already, and she wasn't going to let someone like Oliver tear them apart.
As Sarah moved through the quiet house, her mind continued to whirl. The threat Oliver posed was real, and now, with John gone, she felt the full weight of it pressing down on her. She paced the living room, her nerves frayed, wondering what Oliver had meant about John.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting her thoughts. She picked it up, her pulse quickening when she saw John's name flashing on the screen.
"John?" she answered quickly, her voice trembling slightly.
"Hey, Sarah," came John's voice, warm but strained. "Just wanted to check in. I'm about to head to the hotel."
Hearing his voice made the tightness in her chest loosen slightly. "I'm glad you called," she said, sitting down on the couch. "It's… been a long day."
"I'm sorry I had to leave," John said, his voice filled with regret. "I wish I could be there with you."
Sarah hesitated for a moment, debating whether to tell him about what had just happened with Oliver. But she didn't want to worry him, not while he was so far away. "It's okay," she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just… come back soon, okay?"
"I will," John promised. "I love you, Sarah."
"I love you too," she whispered, hanging up the phone.
She leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, trying to push away the lingering dread. But no matter how much she tried to calm herself, Oliver's words kept echoing in her mind. John isn't the man you think he is.
Her fingers tightened around the phone. She knew Oliver was just trying to manipulate her, to sow doubt. But why? What did he know? And what was he planning?